PostApocalypse aka My Season 6
by ScamperthePenguin
Summary: Dean meets another hunter named Sam. I didn't really know what to rate it, so T for some mild language I guess.
1. Supernatural my season 6

Supernatural (Post-Apocalypse)

_It's been three years since Dean Winchester has picked up a shot gun or any weapon for that matter; but tonight that's going to change, for the better._

It's 2013. Dean Winchester, 34, sits at his dining room table eating dinner alone. He owns a house now, something he thought would never happen. Outside, Samantha Colt, 25, sits in a '09 Chevy Impala three houses away from Dean's, she's looking through binoculars with a black, leather journal sitting on her lap. She looks through the binoculars calmly but there is also a look of concern on her face as well.

_The car, it's not hers, the company she works for owns it and she was assigned to drive many a mile to get to this point to do nothing more than what she's doing right now. She's a hunter, like Dean used to be, but not just any hunter, a demon hunter and she's been one for a good 9 years. Some were born into it, others chose it to survive and some, like Dean and Samantha, were forced into it because there were no other choices. People they loved died and they wanted revenge._

Sam lowers the binoculars to her lap and moves the journal on top so she can scribble this down under a heading that reads Day 3 in large print: _D. Winchester appears to be alone, as far as I can tell he's been this way for a while. There are no signs of a girlfriend, fiancée or spouse. _She pulls the binoculars out from underneath the journal and puts them up to her eyes for a second time and sees that the lights are now off in Dean's dining room as well as the rest of the house. Sam lowers the binoculars cautiously and turns to peer out the front windshield of the car. Dean Winchester, with a 45 in hand, stands directly in front of the Impala with a look of anger and annoyance; without losing eye contact, Dean swiftly walks from the front to the driver's side of the car and opens the door.

"Who the hell are you?" he asks pointing the gun a foot from a cautious but confident Sam, who slowly and carefully moves the journal and binoculars from her lap to the backpack sitting in the passenger's seat without breaking eye contact. She knows if she makes one wrong move that everything she's done the past 9 years would be for nothing, so she raises her arms in surrender and turns her body toward the worn out shooter.

"My name is Sam." She knows he'll ask hundreds of questions, but she has hundreds of answers and then some. She expected him to stand there with the gun in her face as they went back and forth in a deadly game of 20 Questions. They stared at one another for a whole minute in silence before he knocked her out, laid her in the back seat and decided to take the car to his house and hide it in the garage.

Sam was knocked out for about 30 minutes and in that time Dean tied her up, emptied the contents of her car and searched her possessions thoroughly. The first thing he looked at, of course, was the black leather journal that he saw sitting on her lap. He leafed through it three times, it wasn't nearly as long as his father's had been; John's was twice as long as hers but it didn't feature information about the Yellow-Eyed Demon or any other monster that inhabited the United States, it featured information about Dean, his brother Sam, the Colt, a gun they had once possessed and the last 9 years of their lives. Dean didn't know whether to be shocked, afraid, enraged or just plain surprised. Every job he and Sam had done, every move they made was recorded in this little black book. He also found a variety of weapons hidden in the trunk and a number of fake I.D.s, just as he had possessed 3 years ago himself and he couldn't help but give a mournful laugh.

Sam regained consciousness and found herself tied to one of the dining room chairs she saw through Dean's window. She had been moved to what looked to her to be a private office. Her chair was placed in the middle of a Solomon's Key that had been painted on the ceiling.

"Rise and shine bitch!" Dean said as he threw a gallon bucket of holy water on Sam. He was expecting some kind of agonized scream from the prisoner, but nothing happened.

"I'm not a demon." Sam said in an annoyed tone.

_Sam knew a lot about Dean Winchester, in fact she knew everything about this man standing in front of her. She was there the day his father died, she was there the day his brother died, she was there when he made the deal to bring his brother back to life, she was there the day Dean himself died, and she was there when he had to kill his own brother to save the world and all who inhabited it. At first it was a head hunt, Sam's father was killed for a gun that the Winchesters possessed. Then it was more like stalking, waiting for the right moment of introduction so she could explain herself to the brothers as they searched for a way to save Dean from the pit. For a time, Sam decided to experience a "normal" life and attend college. Poor Katherine Walker, that girl never got to go to UC Berkeley. Yeah, Sam stole her identity and kept a low profile while Dean was in Hell until she heard of his rising. Just before the Apocalypse started, Sam followed Dean and Sam around the country but found it very difficult. Dean and Sam weren't trusting each other anymore; Dean had Castiel, the Angel and Sam had Ruby, the Demon and the relationship between the brothers became tainted. Sam was losing her touch and fell behind the brothers on many occasions. She didn't witness Lucifer rise and she regrets that, a lot. _

Dean set down the bucket and glided from Sam's left side to her front, and all the while he never took his eyes off of her. "Who are you then?" Dean said in a firm voice. He squatted down two feet away from the chair and stared into her eyes. Dean always did this with people he had just met, whether they were demons or humans.

"I told you, my name is Sam"—"Sam who?" Sam looked at Dean with annoyance once again, opened her mouth but hesitated and said, "Samantha Colt." Dean stood up and crossed his arms, "Colt? As in the gun?" "Yes, I have been looking for my gun for about 9 years now. I assumed you and your brother had it I've been following you for that amount of time as well."

"So you've been stalking me for—"

"No, I had been following you and your brother for 6 years. But I've been following you, by yourself, since the day you killed your brother."

_Sam knew she had hit a soft spot mentioning Sam Winchester, Dean's deceased brother. She didn't do anything to stop Dean she couldn't. Sam was Lucifer's true vessel and Dean had to kill them both in order to end the Apocalypse. Unfortunately, word spread fast about the only witness to the final battle and a lot of hunters wanted her to track down the last Winchester since she had done it for so long. Eventually, there was no other choice but to give in. Sam was assigned to investigate the life of Dean Winchester and get to know him, befriend him and persuade him to teach others his famous methods of hunting. This brought us to the present; this was where our new story began._

"Why are you following me now then? The Colt was destroyed right after we found out that it couldn't kill Lucifer. How come you didn't write that down in your little stalker book, huh?" As he said this, Dean stood up walked behind his desk, pulled Sam's journal out of the middle drawer and threw it out on the floor in front of her. This caused Sam to cry, which hadn't happened since she saw Sam Winchester die.

"Dean, I stopped looking for that stupid gun three years ago because I knew it wasn't worth the fight."

"What fight? The fight to continue following us or to stop or what?" Dean leaned on the worn desk determined to find out who this woman really was.

"It was just before Lucifer rose, I saw how broken you and your brother were and I didn't want to complicate things by getting into the mix so I decided to remain invisible."

"So you stood back and watched me kill my brother is that it? Like a coward?"

"No, more like someone who wasn't supposed to be involved and forced to watch it like torture. Trust me I would have done anything to help you save your brother but I just couldn't do it, they wouldn't let me do it."

"Who?"

"The angels and demons. They had a hold on me at the same time and trust me it was painful on the outside and in, I was paralyzed for every single moment of your macho man showdown. The only thing I could do was let the tears run down my face." She looked at Dean with pure hatred but really felt sorry for him, he had no one left after the Apocalypse happened. He killed Sam and Bobby died long before that.

Dean stared at her for a few seconds before walking behind the chair to untie her. "I'm sorry you had to witness that but I'm not sorry for knocking you out and tying you up, I had to make sure you weren't a threat." After untying her he walked behind his desk and pulled a bottle of whiskey out of a lower cabinet with two glasses. "Are you a drinker?" Sam nodded. "Good, 'cause that's all I have." Dean poured whiskey in the two glasses, filling his halfway and hers a fourth.

Sam stood up and moved to pick up her journal that Dean had thrown on the floor a few minutes before. "Dean, I need you."

Dean, still facing the opposite way with her glass and drinking out of his. "For what?"

"To help me train hunters." She then moved to the desk and placed the journal, putting her hands on either side of it.

Dean then turned and saw that she had moved closer. "Hunters? Jeez and I thought there weren't any you sorry saps left." He placed her glass in front of her and she drank it all, like a shot.

"Dean, I'm not messing around here, I have a boss and he isn't happy right now. All of the people we've trained are failing miserably out on the field—"

"Wait a second? You're training people?"

"Yes. They asked to be."

"Why would anyone want horrible life like that?"

"I don't know. Protection? A hobby? I don't ask I just train, work for my boss and get to live the life I want." That last part was a lie.

"You witnessed the Apocalypse and you still want to be a hunter?"

"I didn't have a choice; I didn't have a home or family, nowhere to go, no one to see. So one day this guy tells me he knows who I am and has a job for me he said he needed a specialist."

"I have a feeling that this is where I come in." Dean said turning away to finish his glass of whiskey and pour himself another.

"Yup. He knew I had been following you and told me to continue, but there was a problem, you had fallen off the hunting radar screen and until about 3 months ago when Hector decided to pay for his bar tab with an old credit card." Sam said this with a little smirk and then turned back to the chair she was tied to and sat down and crossed her arms.

Dean then took the bottle of whiskey and left his glass on the desk and left the room. Sam, with a worried and confused look on her face followed him to the living room where she found the contents of her car spread out throughout the room. Dean was standing at side table with his back to her so she couldn't see what he was looking down at.

"Ah I see your investigative tactics haven't changed. What did you look through first, my lingerie or my purse?"

"Nope. Those weren't important. I looked at this." Dean held up a picture of him and Sam, in a tux and wedding gown with two of the most beautiful and genuine smiles they've ever given.

Sam had a panicked look on her face as she stared at the photo. "I'm guessing you found that in my journal, tucked in the back?"

"Yup. You know you really need to learn how to hide crap, especially like this because it can alter the universe and you know people's lives." Dean dropped the picture in the chair near where Sam was standing and walked behind her to head upstairs.

"Then why isn't the picture changing Dean?" Sam turned to face Dean's back, and then he turned to face her.

"I'm not going to answer that because I have so much going through my brain right now that I could just go insane. So, do me a favor and don't ask me any questions, I'll ask the questions. Where did you get that picture the date on it is a year and a half from now, not to mention is my brother's birthday." As he said this he got right up in her face, she was significantly shorter than he was.

Sam bent down and picked up the picture and looked at it longingly, all the while he's still in her face anxiously waiting for an answer. " Your brother, Sam gave it to me, in a diner, near St. Cloud, Minnesota around 5:30 in the afternoon, on a rainy day, four months ago. "

"You remember every detail like that?"

"Wouldn't you? If you were speaking to someone who you saw die?" Sam looked up at Dean; Dean pulled back and looked at Sam. He must've missed the part about his brother; he was too preoccupied with the fact that he was actually going to settle down, eventually.

Sam looked annoyingly at Dean; she was expecting him to excitedly 'You saw my brother? Alive?' but he didn't. "Did you not hear what I just said? Your brother, you know the dead one that you killed, gave this picture to me from the future—"

"Wait, wait, wait, from the future?"

"Dean." Sam stared at him with 'I can't believe you missed it' look. "Okay, you know what I'll just tell you what Sam told me alright." Sam stared at Dean for a few more seconds and then walked back into Dean's office to get her journal that was still sitting on the desk. She returned with the journal open in her left hand, pointing with her right index finger.

"So I was sitting in this diner finishing my short stack and sausage and I wanted to have another cup of coffee, so I turned to face the counter and everyone was gone and then I turn back to see Sam directly across from me. He didn't give me the picture right away though, he was considerate enough to explain why he looked alive and well in front of me."

By the end of this part of the story Dean had moved to the couch and put his feet up on the coffee table and kept staring at Sam as she spoke.

"He told me he needed me to save you from yourself and I told him I didn't believe him so he gave me that." Sam pointed at the picture that Dean now had sitting on his lap. "And you know the rest." After she concluded with her story she walked then stood in front of Dean and sat down next to his feet on the coffee table.

Dean then took his feet off the coffee table to get closer to Sam's face. "No I don't. I don't know how Sam could have physically told you this because I burned his body after I had to kill him."

"He could be a spirit. After all, you didn't kill Sam, you killed Lucifer. Sam was just a vessel, like you were to Michael. For all we know Sam is still out there, wandering around. But I don't know what it was in front of me, I mean it definitely looked and acted like Sam, if it had been a shape shifter or a demon it wouldn't have been so . . .Sam."

"How did you know my brother? You didn't live with him, or hunt with him, hell you've never even met him before that incident."

"Um, hello I've been following you for my whole hunting career. I know everything about you and Sam."

"Yeah that's true. I read that book of yours like four times." Dean got up, went to the kitchen and brought back two bottles of beer and sat back down, offering the beer to Sam.

"So what do we do now?" Dean said, opening the bottle.

"Well, my boss doesn't know I'm here because I told him I quit a while ago. In fact, right after the whole thing in the diner I told him. I gave him the whole, 'I can't handle this anymore it's really getting to me' whole thing, you know all about that."

"Well, one thing's for sure, you know how to cover your tracks. Why did you tell me about the whole training hunters crap if you only came here to tell me that we're 'destined to be together'?"

"I didn't want to come off as desperate, telling someone 'hey guess what! We're supposed to get married' isn't the smartest thing to do especially when it can change your whole life if you do tell them."

"Okay, come here with that journal of yours."

Sam, speaking with a confused look on her face, "What?"

"I just want to get to know you better alright."

"How is my journal supposed to help you understand me? It's all about you and your family." She held it up, and then threw it on Dean's lap.

"If there's one thing I learned about people who keep journals, they put their heart and soul in to them. I mean my Dad; his journal was one of his most prized possessions and I learned so much about him that way." As he said this he leaned closer to her, staring in her eyes. This had been the first intimate moment either of them had had in a long time.

"Okay." She said, with a little innocent smile.

This is how they started their life together. It was a beautiful moment.

[END]


	2. Prologue: When Sam met Sam

_In case you're wondering what happened when Sam met Sam. This is what happened. It wasn't horrifying or chilling for the one that was alive, in fact it was a wonderful moment for Samantha. You see, Sam had more of a connection with Sam than she had with Dean, despite the fact that they hadn't formally met. _

_Sam turned to the counter where she expected to see the three old men that had been sitting and chatting away since she had gotten there. She wanted one more cup of coffee before getting back on the road for another eight hours to get to Omaha, where she would spend the night at the hotel alone before getting to her destination in Lawrence. But she didn't see the old men, or the waitress, it was like they all disappeared into thin air, which would have been impossible because she heard the middle aged waitress that needed to dye her hair again yell at the bus boy in the back for to bring in more soup bowls two seconds before she turned around. _

_Anyway, Sam turned back and looked down at the table and saw a set of large hands folded across from her empty plate. She looked up and saw Sam Winchester, alive and well in front of her. _

"_Hi, Sam." She said calmly. _

"_Hi, um, I know this may be really scary for you and everything because I know you saw me die but I need you to do something for me." He said, it wasn't even like he'd been dead for almost three years because he was acting exactly like he did before. The mannerisms, his voice, and the way he tried to explain the situation, it was so Sam and she couldn't believe it. _

"_Okay." She said._

"_I need you to save my brother." _

"_From what? There aren't exactly that many demons left to come after him."_

"_From himself; he's lonely and he hasn't had intimate contact with anyone, unless you count the cashiers at the gas station." _

"_Really? I mean, I haven't seen Dean in a while and I haven't even met the man."_

"_I know it sounds really unbelievable right now but in a few years Dean is going to be so happy and it's going to be because of you."_

"_Can you prove it?"_

_Then, he pulled out a picture. _


End file.
